


Haunted Mouse

by huntingosprey



Category: The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:26:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2479700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntingosprey/pseuds/huntingosprey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's April 1894 and David Q Dawson finds that the supposedly empty and deserted 221b might not be quite as empty as he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunted Mouse

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from me wondering how the other residence of 221b might react to the events of The Empty House.

March 1894 was as wet and miserable, as many a November I have known; Basil and I stayed close to our hole and were dreary company for any of our friends who called. April, a month we both dreaded for we still keenly felt the loss of Holmes even after three years, was looming lager than ever. This year the human rooms of 221 felt more like a mausoleum or the blood soaked battlefield after a massacre and there was a tension in the air that spoke of more battle and bloody deeds to come.

The first day of April finally saw me driven from the hole by Basil’s sore temper and malodorous experiments and, as I was feeling the damp in my wounds and so had no wish to be outside, I climbed into the shrine like quite of the human 221b. My good friend and fellow physician John Watson had not resided here for many years but sitting in the peace of his old rooms often brought back the memories of many an evening talking of our shared experience in war and detective work and listening to Holmes play still made me smile fondly. I sat for long hours that day remembering turning over and over every memory and often speaking my thought to the silent air, Holmes name was often on my lips as I remembered.

The silence was suddenly shattered by the sound of the door of the room slowly opening, I knew that Mrs Hudson was absent that day and could think of no other soul who would invade these rooms so, fearing some disrespect to Holmes memory, I crept forward to view the intruder. I am a well-travelled mouse having seen service in far-flung places and as such have encountered may a superstition about death and the dead, it is a common belief that to name the dead is to draw them back from their rest to walk this world. A belief I had scorned until that second! There framed in the doorway gaunt, pale with eyes that burned with repressed fire was Holmes!

He stood in the doorway not venturing into the room, wavering as if he both wished and feared to cross the threshold and a low moan of some barely repressed emotion passed his lips. It must have been too much for my usually strong constitution, the tension in the air and the sight of that much-missed face where it could not possible be and the horrible thought that I had dragged him back from the bliss he had so surely earned overwhelmed me. The world suddenly looked like a pane of rain washed glass had been slid in front of my eyes and then I knew no more.

I have no idea how long I lay insensate on the floor of 221 but I came to in my own bed with Basil and Mrs Judson hovering over me 

“Dawson,” Basil sounded relived “thank goodness, I was getting rather worried about you old chap. Ranting and thrashing about like that it’s not at all like you.”

“It’s those terrible experiments!” Mrs Judson exclaimed, “All those fumes, it’s bound to turn a mouses’ brain.”

“Yes, yes.” Basil muttered “I’m done with them for the moment.”

Mrs Judson left muttering dire threats and gloomy predictions under her breath and I was left looking at Basil in confusion.

“You, um, you.” Basil couldn’t meet my eyes, “you were very, agitated. You kept saying you’d seen.” Basil jerked his tail in the direction of the human 221b.

I shivered at the memory “I did Basil, it was Ho…” I bit the word off sharply, “I saw his ghost Basil I swear it on my honour it was him.”

“Nonsense old chap.” Basil said with forced normality, “There’s no such thing as ghosts. Why if there were every murder would be easily resolved by any two bit mystic who came along.”

"Never the less Basil." I said firmly, rising from my bed "I know what I saw. It was Hol. His ghost."

I did my best to keep the fear that I was the one responsible for calling him back to myself but I think Basil saw it in my eyes or in the way I kept biting off Holmes name.

He laid a paw on my shoulder, "Well, maybe you did." he said "Something certainly nearly drove you out of your fur with fright, rest a while longer I'll go and fetch some tea."

The rest of the day past in slightly strained silence with Basil being overly fussy in attending to me and there was deliberately no further talk of Holmes or what had happened.

The next day the tension was even worse, I had slept badly and Basil didn't seem to know how to act around me so we passed a very uncomfortable day mostly in silence and our own private thoughts. The morning of the third started in much the same way with Basil stepping around me as if on quick sand when the tension was abruptly shattered by Mrs Judson, rushing in her cap askew and apron flapping about her untied in a state of agitation.

"Oh Basil! Oh Goodness!" Mrs Judson cried "Such a thing! Oh Doctor you were right! We're haunted!"

Basil leapt to his feet and caught her by the paws "Calm, Mrs Judson, calm. The facts, such as they are, please."

"Oh I never thought I'd see the day. I was in the corridor upstairs, beating out the carpet and there it was!" Mrs Judson said, wringing her paws.

"There what was Mrs Judson?" Basil asked impatiently.

"His tobacco," Mrs Judson whispered, "The smell of his tobacco. And there were footsteps pacing the hall."

I shivered no one had smoked that brand of tobacco since he'd left us.

Mrs Judson looked back over her shoulders as if expecting to see the jaws of hell gaping wide behind her "And then, oh it was terrible." She fetched her handkerchief out of her apron and dabbed at her eyes "I heard poor Mrs Hudson scream."

Both of us were on our feet now, ever since those terrible days in '91 Basil and I had done what ever we could to help Mrs Hudson and if some harm had come to her now.

"She was sobbing as if her heart had broken," Mrs Judson continued "just saying his name over and over again."

Basil snorted, "This is ridiculous, ghosts don't exist! It's a matter of scientific principle."

"But Basil." I began to protest only to be overrriden

"I shall go upstairs and observe the facts myself. Dawson bring your revolver, Mrs Judson make yourself a cup of tea and wait here for us."

And with that Basil was shrugging into his coat and marching determinedly out of the hole. I hurried after him giving Mrs Judson a reassuring smile. We climbed steadily Basil muttering about over emotional claptrap and suggestibility until he stopped so abruptly I walked into him. We stood under the floorboards of Holmes old rooms in silence and there floating softly in the air was the sound of a violin.

Basil gave a sharp full body twitch, squared his shoulders and hurried on and I kept on his tail clutching the charm given to me in India for protection from evil spirits. As we emerged into the human 221b the violin cut off abruptly and when we rounded the corner of the fireplace and saw the rooms I felt my heart freeze in my chest. Even Basil was affected for I heard him whisper a half strangled curse, a second later however he was laughing and striding forward.

"Some ghost Dawson," Basil gestured up at the waxen bust draped in an old dressing gown. "It's as real as you and I."

"That was not playing the violin Basil." I pointed out sharply, my paws were still trembling from the shock, "Nor did it walk the corridors smoking!"

"No," he allowed musing, "Something is a foot Dawson. Someone wants people to think Holmes is either still alive and back home or haunting this place."

"Well they're doing a bang up job of the latter Basil." I huffed "But why on earth would anyone want to do either?"

"That is the question we must answer!" Basil cried, the enthusiasm of the case clear in his eyes "Dawson, find a vantage point and observe these rooms. Note every person who enters, anything that happens. I'll get Mrs Judson to send you up some cheese scones. I need to go out, something rotten stirs in London."

And with those instructions he was gone, with a resigned sigh I found a secure spot on the mantle and settled in to wait and watch. It was a dull afternoon, sat watching the shadows chase each other across the floor and eating the scones Mrs Judson brought up for me. In fact it wasn't until it got dark outside that anything interesting happened, Mrs Hudson, looking happier than I had seen her for years slipped in and lit all the lamps. I wondered about this but supposed that for some reason it was necessary to have the bust throw a shadow. Basil joined me in my watch much later and I reported to him on Mrs Hudson's doings.

"Most peculiar," Basil mused stroking his whiskers "much of criminal London is twitching with something, but all I can get a rumours and smoke."

I was about to reply when there was the sound of shattering glass and the impact of a bullet, we both whisked round to look at the bust and I recoiled in horror the bullet had passed through the centre of the head and the back of it was blown wide open. I have seen too many mice killed by such wounds and the memory of the mess and smell of blood and brains splattered over the ground made me nauseous and I struggled to control myself.

"Well," Basil said, his own voice trembling slightly, "some one fell for the ruse. But who, why and which one?"

"People don't tend to shot ghosts Basil." I answered, "Or at least not with ordinary bullets."

We abandoned our post and went hunting across the floor for the bullet which had clearly exited the back of the bust. The thing was a disturbing sight, mangled as badly as the bust with bits of wax caught up in the twisted metal. For a second time I fought back nausea and the knowledge of what such a thing could do to mouse or man, the footsteps coming up the stairs sent us both scurrying for cover and then sagging weak kneed with relived disbelief as Dr Watson and Holmes entered the rooms. Holmes! Alive, not very healthy as I saw now, but alive. 

Basil and I listened to their talk and so learnt some part of the doings of the last few days and I resolved to get the full story of those missing years out of John as soon as possible, seeing them settled in for a long evening talking Basil plucked at my sleeve.

"Come Dawson, leave your 'ghost' to talk with his doctor. We have news to carry to Mrs Judson, and then a meal to celebrate a very welcome haunting" 

He was grinning at me as he spoke and I felt an answering grin spread across my face, for all the frights and scares we'd been given Holmes apparent haunting of 221b was and will always be very welcome.


End file.
